


Stars In Your Eyes

by lovethatwewerein



Series: 'Cause Baby It's You [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Dalton is co-ed after the fire because I said so okay, F/F, Original Character(s), Seb is a single dad and he is doing is best, minor Sebastian Smythe, oc pairing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:27:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28036929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovethatwewerein/pseuds/lovethatwewerein
Summary: There’d been a story her uncle Jeff had told her when she was three, the tale of an old building with songs written into its walls. Something about it had always been out of reach, a fairytale that she would carry in her heart until she made her own memories. And then Dalton was standing tall once more, the same plot of land that so many people had made their home built from scratch.
Relationships: Charlotte Smythe/Tracy Anderson
Series: 'Cause Baby It's You [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2053707
Kudos: 6





	Stars In Your Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from 'Dorothea' by Taylor Swift
> 
> There will end up being more known character content as this series goes on but my brain said teen lesbian seblaine and i had to write it. I would die for both of these girls and i feel like thats important for you to know. so thanks for reading.

There’d been a story her uncle Jeff had told her when she was three, the tale of an old building with songs written into its walls. Something about it had always been out of reach, a fairytale that she would carry in her heart until she made her own memories. And then Dalton was standing tall once more, the same plot of land that so many people had made their home built from scratch. 

The news came in the form of an alumni letter, addressed to Mr Sebastian Smythe. Enclosed was all of her dreams, all of her bedtime stories come to life, and it gave her the chance to be everything she’d ever dreamed, soar above who she already was and who she eventually could be. 

“I want to go to Dalton,” she tells her dad over dinner, chicken that he’d perfected through thirteen years of trying. He raises a finger at her, dropping his fork to fetch something from the study. He comes back with a small stack of papers, dropping them in front of her with a smile. “But you already knew that.” 

They share a small smile over their chicken, half filled forms between them and, even though it was just them and he’d always been worried that he wouldn’t be enough, they’re always going to be okay. 

*

She thrives at Dalton, the same way her father did almost thirty years ago - straight A’s and lacrosse captain by her junior year. It’s a parallel to the stories she knows, a daughter emulating her father just enough that she carries a part of him wherever she might be, and while Amelia might tease her for it, she’s not going to give it up for anything. There probably wouldn’t be much worth giving it up for.

*

Tracy Anderson arrives a year after her, curls clipped back with strong pins so she can see past them. They’re wild and kind of pretty even if they’re a riotous mess, hazel eyes that shine under the reflection off of each and every chandelier above their heads. She joins the warblers because, of course she does - it was practically her birthright - and there’s times where her glasses slip down her nose during songs and she has to take a second to push them back up. 

It’s a small detail that Charlotte always notices when they perform and part of her hates how adorable it is. 

They aren’t friends, barely even on the same side of popularity. Tracy has the warblers, the debate team and the prom committee that she’s a part of just because she loves planning. She has charity events and keeping her head down despite each smothered laugh that escapes her when Charlotte does something entertaining. 

Each time that happens, a low chuckle hidden within her sleeve, it lights a fire within her chest. A bid to be just as funny the next time they interact, as interesting to be around when everyone knows her name already. She doesn’t know what it is but the kisses she shares with Robert, with Michelle and Kayla almost incite the same feeling so she doesn’t really bother questioning it. 

*

“Can I sit here?” she’s in the library, tall glass windows allowing flickers of sunlight to seep in, rays drifting over books she’s laid out across the table. Even she has to take a break and study sometimes. Tracy Anderson stands with her bottom lip caught between her teeth, an old leather satchel thrown over her shoulder.

She nods, dragging some of the textbooks from further away nearer. “Go for it.” 

Tracy slips into the seat on the other end of the table, tie knotted close to her throat and a student council pin on her lapel. She’s always worn the uniform properly, grey skirt at her knees and collar perfectly straight - it’s intoxicating, really, to know that there’s a person so put together out there that the way they wear their school clothes reflects it. 

“Thanks,” the shorter girl mutters, tugging a thick novel out of her bag. It’s not assigned reading, they’re in most of the same classes, but Tracy’s always gone above and beyond for her education. It’s admirable, honestly. 

There’s a forty minute window, silence save the scratching of her pen, the turn of a page and their breathing, before her eyes start to cross and she tilts her head back. No reaction, not until the page is flipped once more and (assumedly) the sentence finishes. 

“Are you okay?” 

It’s dotted with concern, the concern she’s never truly understood because she doesn’t care much for the troubles of strangers. Then again, Tracy Anderson has always been a bit of a worrier. 

“This test might kill me but I’ll be okay,” she tilts her chair back, shoe pressed against the wooden table leg for the slightest bit of balance. Tracy’s eyes get a little wider with panic and a blush crawls up her cheek. “You could always come over here and check on me though.” 

It’s a small snort, one she can’t resist, with her head bowed over her book. She shakes her head, face flushed and rolls honey eyes. “You wish, Smythe.” 

And maybe she’s more like her father than she cares to admit sometimes, with a desperate need to flirt with every pretty person she sees, but life deserves to be more interesting. “Of course I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm at love-that-we-were-in on tumblr


End file.
